The Waiting Game
by Light1
Summary: Kain learns the truth about Raziel's fate.
1. Chapter 1

**Waiting Game**

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal Dynamics not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Vorador . . . then he'd be mine.

Warning: this fic contains YAOI (GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it's that simple.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kain/Raziel

Setting: post Blood omen 2 pre Soul Reaver one. In the time of the clans.

_Italics mean flashback._

Authoress note: Just a random jot, has potential to be rather sad.

Enjoy. 

* \/ * /\ * \/ * /\ *

**Chapter One**

{Kain}

The caves of Moebius are not and have never been my favourite place to be. Although I know there are some who would think otherwise. My eldest has accused me, more than once, of spending long stretches of time here deliberately, in order to avoid him. But why would I wish to spend time in this hellish place? Especially when he is the alternative.

The caves are a truly unpleasant place; they are cold, dark and damp. But it is not the cold or the dark or even the dampness that causes me to find the place truly repulsive, but the feeling in the air. It is difficult to describe, for it is not a smell but it rests in the air like one and it is not a sound although it resonates like one. It is not a smell or a sound, but a feeling, a sense of malevolence. It permeates the skin and sinks into your heart. But the treasures I find here are worth the risk. My last visit to this godforsaken place gave me a great deal of information, information that I consider a mixed blessing, information about a creature. For years I have wondered at the creature that fate would send to destroy me. I caught a glimpse of it on my second visit to this place, years after Moebius' death and years before Raziel was born.

A wraith-like creature, who would come from the silent world, wielding flames and hatred.

It has taken me years to learn more, and over those years I have raised fledglings, lead armies and taken Nosgoth as my own. Now after all of my actions, I have finally learned what will befall me, what will befall my children and what will befall Raziel. My poor pathetic Raziel, he always has been mine. Even before he knew my name and I his, he was still mine and now I have discovered that I am his to perhaps an even greater degree, my life is his to take.

Raziel will change soon. Very soon. I have waited far to long.

I walk out of the caves, I have seen all I wish to see for the time being, and I stand watching the sun move through the sky wondering briefly when I stopped feeling the burn of the light. Strange that I cannot pinpoint the moments when I stopped feeling these things, the pain, the fear and the hatred. All I feel now is a strange numbness taking away all the pleasant feelings of before.

The thoughts of returning to my home, to my child, those thoughts had made me smile when I left but now they fill me with a cold numbness that I long to be rid of. I do not want him to be harmed, but I do not wish to perish myself and I have no intention of doing either. I have outwitted fate before, I have outwitted wizards and daemons and those from a place that was dubbed worse than the deepest, darkest hell and that hell be damned I will not send my child to it and I will not go in his place. If I can save us both I will.

I sigh loudly as I walk, fighting the growing hopelessness of the situation. It is a clever move on fates part, to twist the one creature in all of Nosgoth that I trust. Twist him and turn him into what could one day be my undoing, for never was there a hatred as fierce as one born from love and trust. A lesson I learned from Sebastian. But I have already decided that I will not allow fate to twist Raziel, I will not allow her to lay any hands on him, at least not to the extent she clearly wishes. I believe there is a way to free him from her and with a little more thought, a little more time; I believe I will find that way. I will save my child and ultimately myself.

It is unusual to be returning to the sanctuary with such dark thoughts, normally my return is a rather pleasant affair, something I greatly enjoy; but today I drag my feet, amble slowly through the wastelands towards my home. There are few between me and my home, the fledglings that are here watch me as if I am a ghost, something they had never thought to see. It is amusing to see them fall over themselves, some fleeing, others staring.

The doors to my home are large and too heavy for mortal hands, but I do not struggle, it has been many a year since I have been mortal. As soon as I enter I know that I have been seen approaching. The hallways reek of my eldest, there is blood on the floor. His, I can tell and touching it I find that it is warm. I sigh to myself and smirk. I have often wondered at where he got his sense of humour from, it certainly wasn't me. My own sense of amusement is, I like to think, far more subtle than my eldest's. It wasn't always though, I can remember wandering the streets of Meridian finding joy and humour at laying waste to men and women chained to walls. It lacked refinement and any sense of pride but I found amusement in watching them realise that I was not here to help them but nor was I going to ignore them, watching the dawning horror in their eyes had always made me laugh. But as I grew older and became more learned in the ways of the world and my own fate in it, I found irony to be greatly amusing. I had laughed as I had slit my wrists, to let my blood flow into the ruined corpse of the once leader of the Serefan warriors. My laughter then had turned into hysteria when he woke and clung to me as if he loved me.

Since those early days I have not laughed like that, that strange laughter that is almost more of a release than violence or tears. Now I find my sense of humour has dimmed, I still laugh occasionally but it is rarely long lived or loud, usually little more than a chuckle and often caused by my eldest's actions. He is daft, after all.

Raziel's sense of humour comes not from the suffering of others, or the random twists fate decides to play or at another's daft actions. No, his sense of humour is far more child like. He finds amusement in playing rather pointless and foolish practical stunts, and has been known to chuckle at vulgar innuendos, even the occasional slap-stick humour can make him howl. It matters little that he is unsubtle, I will humor him. With a smile I turn and wander into the corridors leading around and through the sanctuary, knowing that he will make his presence known in a moment.

He is improving a little, for as I turn a sharp corner his scent hits me only for a split second before a weight lands on my back causing me to topple with a rather undignified yelp I will later deny. Claws dig into my shoulders and a leg crosses over my own trying to prevent movement, trying to pin me down. He is improving this is true, his attack caught me off guard and that is an improvement for him, there was a time I could hear him coming sixty miles away. But he has not improved enough to best me just yet, and while he is arranging himself to try and keep me down, I let out a small sound and go limp in his grip. The surrender causes him to pause.

I can almost hear his thoughts, wondering if he struck too hard, to fast, if he caused injury without truly meaning to. His grip loosens and he makes a soft enquiring sound. I smirk to myself, poor, gullible, foolish Raziel. My elbow connects sharply with his jaw, knocking him back, he curses when I lift myself from the ground and turn knocking him further back, another sharp blow causes him to fall. I stand over him smirking.

"You will have to do a lot better than that," I smirk at him,

"You bastard," he growls back at me, blood coming from his nose and cut lip, "I thought you were hurt."

"You are a moron Raziel." I say calmly, and then turning, I run from him, indulging in his game despite my own dark thoughts as to his future nature.

The sanctuary is a large building with many rooms and long winding corridors. I allow him to chase me through the corridors, I even let him get close enough to sink his claws into my flesh in the gardens, watching as he laps my blood from his flesh. But I am not really a playful creature at heart, I never was. I become bored with the chase quickly and find myself waiting in the main chamber of the sanctuary, looking up at the ruined pillars. Many would look and say they saw only dead and broken rock, but I can see the life that is still in them. My survival did not destroy them completely. Reaching out I place my hand on the pillar of conflict, the pillar shakes slightly under my hand, heat beginning to pour from the stone. Tensing my claws I pull pure magic from the stone. It appears as a dull reddish smoke in my hands, the same reddish smoke that permeates the air when I have need to call on one of my darkest spells. The spell that turns friend into foe and puts blood on everyone's hands.

His footsteps give him away.

"You may stop staring at any time," I said calmly, scooping the red smoke from the air as it made to escape. "Ought you not to be pouncing now?"

"You seemed deep in thought father, I did not wish to disturb you," he replies approaching slowly.

"Indeed." I look at him, he is thin, even for him; no doubt his eating has suffered in my absence. He continues to watch me as the smoke in my hands turns black and putrid, condensing into a thick liquid. "And what might you find so intriguing?"Raziel pursed his lips, his head tilted to one side.

"The way you handle that vile whatever-it-may-be, for one."

"It is old magic Raziel, old and dying magic." I sigh and shake the offending substance from my hands, it hits the marble floor and hisses as it evaporates. I touch the pillar that is mine and pull a bright crystal light from it. Strange that my own magic should be so bright, considering my nature. Raziel walks closer but stops at the side of my throne and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. He watches me in silence for a moment as I walk closer, he smirks before rising up onto his toes, attempting to brush his mouth against mine. I step away, giving him an annoyed glare.

"I am attempting to educate you child," I snap, although not really sure what it is I am trying to teach him. Perhaps I should educate him as to his fate? Would it change anything?

"Why do you refuse me now, knowing you will beg me later?" he smirks, thinking himself amusing, I growl in response.

"I do not beg," I hiss, closing my claws hard on the balance energy in my hands, the light winks at me then is gone, I feel it rush into my blood and feel better for it.

"Well I must be mistaken then," his words are soft but his expression is far too amused for his own good. My mood darkens further.

"Do attempt to show a modicum of respect, Raziel." I turn to face him. He bows to me, over dramatic and flamboyant, red cloth flares in the wind cause by the movement, his eyes shine, watching me from his lowered position and I cannot help but smirk at the challenge in them. But there is little joy in my smirk and he seems to see this, faltering for a moment.

"Much better," my voice sounds lighter when I answer his action, his expression relaxes once more. "Now come to me." His steps are fast and betray his desperation. Arms wrap around my waist as he presses himself to me and takes a long deep breath. His playful nature hidden for a moment under the relief and need. He pulls back after a moment and looks up at me, confused. Normally by this point I am grasping at him, lifting him, pulling him closer as his legs wrap around my waist; my claws accidentally drawing blood, trying to absorb him into myself. But today I simply move my hand up to cup his cheek, my thumb stroking wide circles across the corner of his mouth.

"My Lord?" He breaths, his words catching in his throat, "father?"

"You are thin child," my voice is toneless, "yet not as thin as you were last time I left you, this is good." I smirk a little, heat returning to my voice, Raziel smiles in answer, but the smile is wobbly, not his usual confident expression but rather one that is confused and worried.

"Thank you," he says stupidly after a moment. I slide my hand over his face, the other arm wrapping around his waist.

"I daresay such an admirable accomplishment calls for a reward." His reaction is confused, not knowing weather to be insulted at my jibe at his inability to feed himself or to nod and take what I am offering. I watch him as he battles his pride against his lust. I watch as lust wins over and he smirks and presses firmer against me. I can feel the need to answer his desperation with my own, but something else is stopping me. Something is different, something has changed in me. He will suffer great pain at my hands in the future and some part of me does not want to hurt him further, does not want to use him for my own pleasure. But this has always been how we have been; it does not hurt us to continue. It may hurt him deeper if I do nothing. After a moment I come to my decision, I am too selfish a creature to starve myself of him completely but I can give him something. I can give rather than take from him.

"Raziel," I get his attention and bury my talons in his air, tipping his head back before closing my mouth over his.

Raziel leans into my demanding touch, opening his mouth to the flick of my tongue, drinking me down. His claws drawing my blood, as he grips me tighter, trying to convey his need. I smile at his movement and wait for a moment before pushing my tongue into him. I pull power up out of my chest and push it down into his throat. His stiffens at the sensation as power spread through him, his legs shake and he groans louder, gripping me tighter. I smirk wider, I have only done this once before and not to Raziel. But I learned that pushing my power, my magic down into someone else caused a very interesting and enthusiastic reaction. I called again to my power and it thrummed and pulsed through me and down into him, moving through his veins as I guided it, raising goose flesh and teasing him with it before twisting it around his cock.

His legs gave up completely and I took his weight, turning and pressing him against my pillar pinning him there with my hips and hands. He whimpered as I shifted against him, getting a better grip on him to free a hand. Once free I allowed my hand to tear through the fastenings on his trousers and closed my hand over him. I do not move my hand on him but simply held him as I pushed more power into him and tightened it. He arched into me, groaning into my mouth, his teeth closing on my tongue, drawing more blood that he swallows, his breath rushing through his nose as he clings to me, caught between the pillar and his father. His hips start to snap against my hand, jerky and fast and without rhythm. I had not realised I held him so close to his edge. He wrenches back from me, the movement surprises me and I look at him as he swallows, his hips still snapping against my hand. He is trying to speak and I find myself feeling pity for him as I watch him struggle desperately to speak with me.

"Please," he manages after a few tries and I cannot refuse him. I grip him harder in my hand and flex my wrist, kissing him once again, my mouth full of my own blood. That is all it takes and he is coming, his body shaking, silently begging me not to let it end. I wait for a few moments, letting him come back to himself. He is slipping in and out of consciousness and I cannot help but smile as I lift him.

It is after all a rather pleasing stroke to ones ego to make your lover pass out using nothing but your hand and a kiss. I teleport us both to my chambers, unsure why I have done so for a moment before returning to myself and putting him on the bed. The sheets are thick but not necessary, he cannot freeze in here. But despite that fact I wrap them over him. I did not use him this time, I did not hurt him, I am pleased, he will suffer enough later at my hand. He wakes as I move away. 

"But you," he swallows, "my Lord, father, you didn't …" his words were breathless and his eyes already closing.

"Maybe later Raziel," I say quietly before turning and leaving him alone. 

**End chapter**


	2. Chapter 2

**Waiting Game**

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal Dynamics not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Vorador . . . then he'd be mine.

Warning: this fic contains YAOI (GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it's that simple.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kain/Raziel

Setting: post Blood omen 2 pre Soul Reaver one. In the time of the clans.

_Italics mean flashback._

Authoress note: Just a random jot, has potential to be rather sad.

Enjoy. 

* \/ * /\ * \/ * /\ *

**Chapter Two**

{Kain}

It has been a week since I have seen my eldest. I cannot lie, it worries me, for it is rare for him to be away from me this long at normal times but for him to leave me for this long when I have already been away in the time streamers caves is unheard of. I wandered for hours after I came back from the caves and had put him to bed. I had meant to speak with him properly but when I returned to my rooms after a few hours he was no where to be found. I had considered following him, his scent was still strong on the breeze but I decided against it, he may not know why but he clearly seemed to be feeling the need to be away from me. Little does he know he will soon be fighting to follow me. I have given him his week of solitude but have decided to end it this night. It is late already when I set out to find him; the night only has a few hours left until the meagre sun will fight it off.

I journey to his clan holdings. The closer I come the stronger his scent becomes and after a few moments thought I take to the skies not particularly wanting to collide with any of his children. He is here thought and I will find him. As always he was not difficult to find. I doubt he could ever hide from me successfully. I always find him, sometimes I follow scent, other times I follow the tracks he unwittingly leaves behind, once I followed gossip and another time I followed his voice. He always leaves something to follow in his wake, I doubt he does so deliberately but that does not detract from the fact that he still does so. I smile at the thought that I could probably find him if he hid himself on the underside of Hell. But it seems that the future would have him follow me, not I following him. I hope he will be up to it and resolve to leave subtle and unsubtle clues alike as to my whereabouts.

He is sitting in the centre of an empty space, a platform of sorts, maybe a theatre. He is hunched and looks miserable. I allow my feet to scrape across the floor alerting him to my presence if he had not noticed me already.

"You found me?" he asks and I frown, what a ridiculous question.

"No Raziel I have not found you." I mutter unable to stop myself, "it has been a long time since you truly tried to hide yourself from me."

"Three hundred and seventy two years," he answers; I raise my eyebrows in surprise

"That's very precise child. But tell me why you hide yourself from me now?"

"Its nothing," he mumbles "I simply feel a little … run down." He turns away, I walk closer and take a look at him, absently run claws through his hair, he makes a low sound in his throat and leans into the touch.

"You've not been eating," I state the obvious.

"I've just not been very hungry as of late." He is lying.

The change always brings on an unquenchable thirst. The bloodlust is closer to the surface than ever before and we hunt almost constantly, as if building reserves for the long sleep ahead. Foolish child, thinking by starving himself he won't go into the change. He is trembling with the need to eat, foolish, foolish child. I have seen vampires in the middle of famine still go into the change. They do not come out again, but starvation does not stop the process, it merely kills us. I growl at my child, a quiet sound but clearly loud enough to show my displeasure, he looks away from me again; but this time I grab his chin and force him to meet my eyes, he looks grief stricken, ashamed and lost and I find myself mirroring those feelings. I let him go.

"Come," I say offering my hand to him "we will go find you some one small." My comment earns a smile, memories of his younger days when tantrums occurred at least once a night and I was forced many times to concede to his wishes simply to give myself a quiet life.

We walk together out through his clan grounds, Raziel in the lead, taking the pathways and corridors he knows will have few, if any occupants. Clearly he has not only been hiding from me, but from his clan also. Foolish child, as if hiding ever did any one a bit of good. I'm almost tempted to clip him on the back of his head for taking such pointless and potentially damaging action. But I know that I wont, I doubt I could even raise my voice to him now. Knowing what I know now, how much he will be hurt I think it is a small mercy to be kind to him now. It is a mercy I can easily give and so I do.

We come out of his clan grounds close to Melchiah's holdings; the scent of the necropolis hangs heavy on the air. He turns to face me, silently asking where we will be going; I turn to my left, leading him up into the forest. The walk I have in mind will eventually bring us to the sanctuary, but should also bring us close enough to the forests near the abyss, where the inhabitants of the sole human stronghold still hunt. He walks silently next to me, hunger and tension coming off him in waves. I feel a stab of pity towards him that even now he is suffering, but hopefully it will be mended. I wonder again if I should tell him that I know he is changing, I wonder if it would ease this. Or if I should keep my knowledge to myself, if I should just let things be. It is a hard decision and not one to be made lightly, the effects could ripple and effect things in ways that I do not understand. Once he is gone I believe it would be wise if I retreated to the caves and found ways to discover exactly what I can do to prevent both our unfortunate fates. For at the moment my knowledge is pathetically poor.

"Father?" his voice snaps me from my thoughts and schooling my expression I turn to look at him. "You seem troubled." There is fear in his voice; he fears my knowing what is truly happening to him and being angered by it. The lump in my throat makes me cough, even now he fears me, after a millennia together he still fears my temper.

"No Raziel I am not greatly troubled," I answer, trying to force my expression to be calm.

"You are a worse liar than I am," he smirks, but the expression has none of his usual cheek and it seems to hurt him to try.

"I am merely thinking," I say quietly, his expression changes slowly. As if he has just realised something, a look of dread and anger crosses his face for a moment before a wave of weakness brought on by the coming change brings him to his knees.

"You are lying."

"You are hungry," I answer, changing the subject. "Stay here," I mutter before turning away towards the scent of mortal men. The mortal is slow and I am fast, the chase is over before it has a chance to begin. But I do not kill the man in my grasp; I do not even rob him of his consciousness. Instead I carry him, kicking and screaming back to my child.

Raziel watches me strangely as I shake the man roughly once to jolt him still before dropping him into my eldest's lap. He continues to watch me for a moment, his eyes angry and accusing, before the mortal tries to rise to his feet, then Raziel's eyes fall from me to the mortal. The kill is not fast and it is wonderful to watch. I think I needed to see this, to see that he is still the fierce monster I raised, that he is not completely helpless, not without hope. I need to know he is strong enough to survive what I have to do to him. Raziel is not helpless and kind, he can be as cruel as I can be. He is not soft hearted like Melchiah who would have broken the mortal's neck, given the human a quick end. Neither is he thoughtless like Zephon and Dumah who would have torn the mortal, but nor is he over careful like Rahab and Turel who would have taken far too long to bring the mortal man his death. No, out of all of them he is most like me, cruel and savage but not without thought or plan. Out of all my children it is him who I will miss the most but it is also him who will survive; and ultimately it is him who will be free.

He is still hungry when the mortal's cooling body falls to the floor and with little thought if any I find myself on my knees next to him offering him my arm. He refuses my wrist, wrapping his talons around my upper arm and using my weight to pull himself up. His free arm gripping my shoulder tightly, before his teeth sink into my throat. There is anger in the bite, the motion rough and not without pain, he wants to hurt me and I let him. But when I tense at the roughness of his actions he softens instantly, drawing sharp angry teeth from my flesh and lapping gently at the wound.

"You know don't you," he mutters, pulling back from me but not leaving my hold on him. "I am foolish to think otherwise," he laughs but it is a sharp awful sound. "You've known for a time now haven't you."

"Raziel," I say my voice firm and hard.

"No," he snaps and my surprise at his interruption allows him to continue. "You knew when you returned, that's why you wouldn't …" his throat closes up and he loses his words. "Why you left," he finishes lamely.

"Raziel," I say firmly again, he looks up at me, his eyes red and sore, he is weeping. "Yes I know," I nod once "I know what is happening to you and yes I knew it before it occurred." I swallow hard "I am sorry for not telling you." He freezes in my arms at that. I do not think in all the years we have lived together that I have once apologised to him for anything. He is silent for a long time as am I, he shifts a little after a few moments and settles firmly against me and I have to stop the breath of relief that wants to escape at his action.

"You're going to kill me aren't you?" He asks after a long time, I swallow hard. I did not think he would ever ask that question of me, "you love me and you're going to kill me."

"Raziel," I say again, angry at myself for only being able to repeat his name.

"You don't say it much but you do don't you?" he asks and I frown for a moment. He is right though, he vocalises his affection for me constantly while I think I could count the amount of times I have told him on a mortal's hand.

"Don't you?" he presses; I smile and nod unable to voice the words even now.

"Good," he mutters, staring hard at my face, "but your still going to kill me," his anger flares up again, "you cruel, arrogant, spineless bastard! You know I would never hurt you! You know that I would never try to take anything from you and you will still kill me! Even after claiming to love me!" despite the anger in his words he does not try to move away from me, as if he knows he cannot escape his fate.

"You are a fool Raziel," I breathe when he stops ranting.

"How so," he snaps "how am I a fool Kain! For the way I see it, you are the fool, to act so ruthlessly that you would destroy one who cares for you. But then I should not be surprised as you have done it before, have you not!"

"Raziel shut up," my words are harsh but I keep my voice low,

"No!" he snarls, now trying to get away from me."Why should I expect different from the likes of Magnus, he went to his death thinking to protect you and having survived that you hunted him down and killed him yourself! So tell me why I should expect any different!"

"You're not making sense." I chid "and if you do not shut up and let me speak I will have to shut you up," I warn and he snarls at me again. But I notice now that despite the anger in his voice his eyes are screaming, not with anger but with grief that I could betray him so after he has given me so much.

"Well!" he tries to begin but I glare at him and he falls silent.

"I'm not going to kill you." The words taste unbelievably sour on my tongue, but it is not a lie, I will not kill him only hurt him greatly. His expression drops, and I almost laugh. For one who thinks me capable of killing him he trusts me unconditionally, instantly taking my word for it. "I am disappointed that you would judge me so." I almost vomit the words up, but these words will calm him, and his last days with me should be calm. Calm and if I can manage it happy.

"But …" he begins but another glare silences him.

"You judge me far too harshly too think I could do such," I sigh, the words coming easier despite the sickness in my stomach, "now stand up, you useless bastard." He silently does as I tell him and I follow suit. I turn and walk away from him hoping he will follow, he does and now I can no longer feel anger and sadness coming from him but rather guilt. That's much worse. I sigh to myself loudly; it seems I am unable to get anything right today. So stopping I turn, he stops a few steps away from me and watches the ground. I cough to get his attention and hold out an arm to him, slowly he comes forward. His slow steps are not out of fear I recognise but rather he is ashamed, I tut and in my eternal impatience I reach forward and pull him to me.

"You are not angry?" he asks against my chest, his breath moving coolly over my skin raising the small hairs on my arms at the delicate touch.

"No Raziel I am not angry," I answer him.

"Don't be disappointed!" he looks at me now, his face a mess of sorrow and desperation "please don't be disappointed that's much worse!"

"I am not disappointed, only a little sad," I answer unable to prevent a momentary smirk at his words.

"Don't be sad either!" he snaps, "I sorry, I'm … sorry, please."

"I know you are." I look to the east and notice the light of dawn is approaching. Concentrating I wrap magic around us both and focus on my room at the sanctuary.

"I know you are sorry. So am I Raziel, so am I."

**End chapter**


End file.
